Open Secrets
by Rosgrana
Summary: Perhaps the staff of Hogwarts know more than their pupils would like to think. Slash/het refs.


Title:Open Secrets  
Author: Rosgrana  
Disclaimer: Everything recognisable is stolen, mostly from J.K. Rowling.   
Spoilers: None  
Feedback: Oh please! Praise will be gratefully welcomed; criticism will be carefully considered; flames will be ignored or mocked, depending on the recipient's mood at the time.  
Archive: I'd be flattered, just let me know.  
Author's Note: Just in case it isn't widely known, bromide is a substance that's supposed to suppress sexual interest. It used to be put in the British Army's tea to keep the minds of the Privates off their privates. Anyway, story!  
  
  
It was a cold, wet Saturday, and for once, peace reigned in the Hogwarts staffroom. Hagrid wasn't there, which helped, as he and Professor Snape weren't on good terms since the discussion regarding Skrewts-as-potion-ingredients. Madame Pince was chortling into a copy of 'Who's Afraid of Beowulf?', occasionally glancing up to mutter "Selfish *dead* git!" in the direction of Professor Binns, who was fast asleep six inches above the only really comfortable chair in the room; Professor McGonagall was marking essays, mostly with crosses; Madame Pomfrey was writing to tell the Creeveys that next time Dennis broke his arm she'd take the bone out until he learned to look after it better; Professor Sprout was watching the rain and exhorting it to "Keep going - do the garden good!"; and Madame Hooch and Professor Snape were loudly discussing the ineptitude of the England Quidditch selectors.  
  
"Nicholson, I ask you!" sneered Snape.  
  
"Couldn't find his arse with both hands, never mind the snitch!" agreed Madame Hooch.  
  
Just then, the door opened, and Professor Flitwick entered, hopped up onto a chair, and sighed.  
  
"What's up, Geoffrey?" Professor McGonagall asked, happy to have an excuse to ignore her marking for a while.  
  
"I'm thinking of asking Albus to ban secret affairs except in the summer," was the somewhat odd response.  
  
Professor Snape wondered aloud if his colleague had been listening to that fwooper of Hagrid's again.  
  
"No, I'm just fed up of tripping over students making out all over the place," explained Professor Flitwick. "It isn't a problem when the weather's good, you just have to avoid the broom shed and the shrubbery, but when it's like this they stay indoors and hide behind things, and I have to go about stamping and coughing to give them time to separate. It's like going for a walk in adder country, except adders don't turn scarlet and make pathetic excuses when they realise you're there."  
  
"Or hide in the greenhouse and destroy valuable plants," added Professor Sprout in tones of great bitterness.  
  
"Aren't you ever going to forgive that pair?" asked Professor McGonagall. "I'm sure it was an accident!"  
  
"Well of course it was a ruddy accident! No-one *deliberately* up-ends two dozen Barb-Spined Cacti over themselves when they're half naked! That doesn't change the fact that I only managed to save *four* of them! Two month's work, ruined!"  
  
Madame Pomfrey looked up from her letter. "You just be glad you only had the plants to deal with! I was three hours getting the needles out of those two, and they'll have to be very careful how they sit down for a good while yet!"  
  
The staff winced in unison, and Madame Pomfrey looked superior.  
  
Quickly changing the subject, Madame Pince asked, "Who was it this time, anyway, Geoffrey? Potter and Malfoy, as usual?"  
  
"Surprisingly, no. Hermione Granger and Dean Thomas, pretending to be a suit of armour in the lower corridor. 'Studying historical defensive magic' they told me."  
  
"*Two* of yours, Minerva!" Professor Snape never missed a dig. "What *has* got into the Griffindors this year? Are you putting something in their pumpkin juice?"  
  
"And if not, maybe you should consider it," said Madame Hooch. "I'm sure Severus could brew you up some bromide if you asked nicely!"  
  
"Poor Weasley," said Professor Sprout thoughtfully. "*Both* his best friends having secrets from him. He must be getting a bit confused."  
  
"More than a bit, if you ask me!" put in Madame Pince darkly. "I've caught him in the Silent Study area with three different people in the last fortnight!"  
  
"Not all that unusual, surely, at his age," Professor Flitwick suggested.  
  
Madame Pince didn't agree. "Lavender Brown last week, Viola Barras on Tuesday, and yesterday it was Seamus Finnegan!"  
  
There was a brief, thoughtful silence, then:   
  
"Well, at least his taste's improving," from Madame Pomfrey. "Finnegan's rather pretty."  
  
"Bromide. Definitely." muttered Professor McGonagall.  
  
"You know," said Professor Sprout, "going back to Potter and Malfoy, I haven't had to pretend they're invisible for ages now. Either they've split up, or finally developed some discretion."  
  
Professor Snape snorted. "No such luck! On either score. Trust me."  
  
"Well, I hope they haven't split up," she replied. "I think it's sweet - real Romeo-and-Juliet stuff."  
  
"How d'you know they haven't?" asked Professor McGonagall. "I haven't seen them together for a while either, and they've never been all that discreet, considering no-one's supposed to know anything about them."  
  
The Potions master looked embarrassed. "Errm. Well. Actually, I... err... I sent the Boy Hero to the basement stores a few weeks ago, and 'forgot' to ask for the key back. Even someone of Potter's limited intellect can spot a good idea when he's hit in the eye with it."  
  
The Griffindor Head leaped on the chance for a dig of her own. "Why, *Severus*! I never knew you were such a romantic! How *sweet*!"  
  
Professor Snape reacted as if accused of eating bubotubers. "*I* *am* *not*! It's all very well Albus decreeing that we have to let them think we don't know about that... relationship... but when I start finding underclothes left lying under *my* desk something has to be done."  
  
"How d'you know they were theirs?" asked Madame Pince. "Or would we be better not to ask?"  
  
"Malfoy crest on them. Little idiots must think we're all ruddy blind!"  
  
Professor Flitwick laughed. "Of course we're blind. We're teachers - we have to be! No-one could have any fun at school if teachers went around *knowing* about things, could they?"  
  
"Well, I really will go blind if I keep staring at these excuses for essays!" Professor McGonagall pushed the pile away. "Anyone want a game of chess? Chloe?"  
  
"Yes, sure. We'll have to go somewhere else though. I can't concentrate in this racket," Professor Sprout got up.  
  
"I've got my set up in my room."  
  
The two left the room, and the door had barely closed before the snickers and comments broke out.  
  
"Chess!"  
  
"Yeah, *right*!"  
  
"Chloe Sprout couldn't tell a pawn from a petunia!"  
  
"Who do they think they're kidding?"  
  
Professor Binns still hadn't woken up. 


End file.
